


Reach

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [34]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Allergies, Anxiety, Fluff, Gen, Illness, Insomnia, M/M, implied/referenced sensory overload, its mostly just pure schmoopy fluff though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 10:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: 5 times someone reached for Logan(And one he reached for someone else)





	Reach

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from [ amethystfairy ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystfairy/pseuds/amethystfairy) in the comments of _Moonshine_ :
> 
> “Could you write a oneshot with more grabby hands? I don’t know why, but those are my kryptonite” 
> 
> Fuck jeez, me too my friend, have a BUNCH of grabby hands
> 
> also - high key cried while writing the first scene
> 
> The song is "Crawdad Song" by Woody Guthrie

_Mom_

Four-year-old Logan though the world was too loud and too big and too colorful. He was smart enough to know this was a su-per-flu-ous complaint, because the world was the same size it had always been and wasn’t going to change just because Logan didn’t like it, but he was going to complain about it anyway.

Except sometimes the world was _so_ loud and _so_ big and _so_ colorful that he couldn’t even complain about it because it was all pressing-pressing-pressing so tight on him that all the words got squished back down his throat.

Which usually ended with Logan under his parents bed.

His parents bedroom smelled like Mom’s perfume, and books and papers (new and old), and it was dark under the bed so the harsh lights in the ceiling didn’t poke at his sens-i-tive eyes and the heavy mattress muffled some of the noise of the very loud world.

So, Logan hid under the bed.

If you could call it hiding when they all knew that’s where he was.

“Hey, Loganberry,” came Mom’s whisper-soft voice. It wasn’t too loud, but only just.

Logan looked up, squinting to keep even the little bit of light out. Mom had laid on her stomach so the side of her head was par-a-llel with the floor, and set her temple on her hands.

“Too much?” she said.

Logan nodded.

“What about if we turn the lights off?” she said.

Logan considered it.

He shook his head no.

“Lights and the electronics off, with the curtains pulled?” she tried.

Logan wrinkled his nose – too dark. Shadows made him feel watched, like he was a lightbulb in a dark room. He faced his hands together, moving them towards one another in a shrinking motion.

“Just the lights and the electronics?” said Mom.

Logan considered. After a long moment of del-i-ber-a-tion, he nodded.

“Okay, Loganberry,” she said, “I’ll be right back,”

She left, and Logan stayed curled under there. He didn’t know quite how long he waited, but not very much – Mom returned, reaching her hand under the bed, opening and closing her fingers a couple times.

“All off,” she said quietly, “Will you come out now, honey? We miss you,”

Logan took her hand, and rejoined the world.

* * *

_Thomas_

Logan was being stupid.

Truly, patently ridiculous. He was nine years old – practically a teenager! - and yet here he was, laying in the dark of his brand-new attic bedroom, huddling under the covers and trying not to cry.

He and Thomas had been so excited to move out of the first floor bedroom they shared, and they’d excitedly debated which of them got which room between the newly finished attic and basement.

Eventually, when their parents were out of earshot and Logan had spent twenty minutes giving himself a pep talk to do so, he had quietly told Thomas that he liked the oak tree outside the attic window, and Thomas had enthusiastically taken the basement.

Logan had laid the room out exactly as he’d wanted it, optimized for both sleep and homework. The bed was parallel to the window, so he could turn to it if he wanted more light or away if it was bothering his eyes. The desk was under the window, so the natural light would aid in reading.

It was perfect, or at least as perfect as a room could feasibly be when Logan had not been directly involved in the design process of the floor plan. Functionally perfect.

And far, far too quiet.

A quiet that bordered on _oppressive_ , that made his breath hitch and his chest feel too tight. The room was dead silent but for the sound of Logan’s own breathing, which sounded- _wrong_ , just wrong, empty and sort of broken, like a set of stereo headphones with one malfunctioning bud-

Logan pinched the skin of his hand.

Stupid.

Almost pathetic – he was too old to not be able to sleep alone. He was _certainly_ too old to need his brother beside him before he could even attempt the simplest undertaking that was _closing his eyes._

But it was still too quiet – so when the silence was broken by the sound of someone slowing climbing the steps, Logan heard it, loud and clear.

He stilled, closing his eyes, because it would be utterly _mortifying_ for his parents to check on him and find him in such a sad state.

The door creaked open, and Logan carefully controlled his breathing.

“… Berry?”

Logan sat up immediately.

Thomas stood in the doorway, hunched in on himself slightly and blinking at Logan, a little startled at the sudden change in position.

They were both silent for a long moment, watching.

“I can’t sleep,” they both blurted in unison.

Thomas gave a short burst of a laugh, and the corner of Logan’s mouth twitched.

Thomas held out his arms, grabbing as he crossed the room until he’d curled his fingers in the back of Logan’s pajamas and climbed into the bed.

The next morning, a sheepish set of brothers and their fondly exasperated parents would move Thomas’s bed up into the attic, and Logan’s desk into the basement.

But for now, they slept.

* * *

_Patton_

Logan was almost certain he was going to scare Patton off.

It was irritating, because he had no idea how he’d arrived at such a conclusion – Logan had never had a friend (barring Thomas, of course), or indeed, anyone who even considered the possibility of becoming such. There was no data to suggest a friend _could_ be scared off.

But since Patton was a grade ahead of him, and Logan only took half his classes in the middle school building, they very rarely saw each other during the day. Which meant if he wanted to be around Patton he had to… _ask,_ either to come over to Patton’s house or for Patton to come to him.

It was… exceedingly stressful, even as Logan had done it multiple times over the course of the past three weeks. Surely he was going to grow accustom to it eventually? Thomas didn’t seem to experience such stress when inviting friends over.

He had a cushion of time between when the last class at the middle school ended at 2:50 PM, and when he need to be back at the elementary building at 3:00. This was about the only time he had to undertake the inviting, so he was rushing fairly quickly through the halls to where he knew Patton’s locker was.

Patton stuck out like a burning lamp, and Logan relaxed. Many time he’d arrived and Patton had been either not yet there or already gone, and Logan had to wait until the next day. This was the ideal outcome.

He approached, ignoring the strange looks he was getting. He stopped several feet away and cleared his throat.

“Patton?”

Patton jumped, and turned with round eyes. Logan always seemed to startle him, no matter how gentle he tried to be in announcing his presence.

But as soon as Patton saw him, he grinned, which was typical, and then he did something that was decidedly _not_ typical.

He took a step forward, his hands raised and grabbing at the air, and Logan took a step back before he realized.

Patton’s expression shuttered, mortified, and he jerked his hands back.

“S-sorry,” he said, rapidly turning pink, “I’m so sorry, I- I should have asked,”

Logan, who’s experience of people lunging for him was limited to his brother and people attempting to attack him, swallowed the small lump of panic in his throat.

“What… what were you trying to do?”

Patton’s frown took a turn into confusion.

“I- hug you?”

Logan’s face burned.

He cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, “Yes, very well. That- that is acceptable,”

“No, no, you don’t _have_ to-” insisted Patton.

Logan felt like his face was so hot it was going to melt off of him.

“I think… that it could be. Nice. Briefly,” he stumbled, “I couldn’t for- too long, it gets… overwhelming, but- a short? One?”

Patton hesitated, just long enough that Logan was considering rescinding the offer and fleeing the building entirely, but then he reached his arms out again and Logan relaxed.

The hug lasted three seconds, and Patton smelled sort of warm and sweet, and Logan was both surprised and pleased to discover that the panic that accompanied strange people touching him was nearly non-existent with Patton.

Patton gave Logan a punctuating (and… very pleasant) final squeeze before letting go, and when Logan had successfully invited him over for that evening and hurried off to the other building, he realized that he hadn’t been all that nervous to ask, after the embrace.

He didn’t even care that he was late.

* * *

_Roman_

Roman was alternating between muttering and humming an unrecognizable tune, standing ankle-deep in the creek bed with his pants rolled up and a large cylindrical net. Logan was sitting on the pebbly edge, back from the water, staring at him. Because Roman looked just a touch ridiculous.

“ _You get a line and I’ll get a pole, honey – you get a line an I’ll get a pole, babe-”_

“You still haven’t explained what we are doing,” said Logan.

“You mean what I’m doing,” said Roman, cutting off the song, “ _You_ are sitting,”

Logan scowled.

Roman picked the song up again, turning in circles. And then, quite suddenly, he lunged with the net and made a victorious noise.

“Come look, I got one!”

Logan frowned.

“I can’t,” he said bluntly, “The creek is running water,”

Roman paused, considering.

“So you can’t cross it,” he said. Logan nodded.

“Have you ever tried to get in, though?”

“I just told you-”

“I mean get in, but not go to the other side?” said Roman, “You wouldn’t be crossing,”

Logan fell silent.

“Because there’s Good Neighbors _in_ the river and the creeks all the time,” said Roman, “Crybabies, mud hags. They can clearly _swim_ ,”

Logan had never thought about it – _testing_ the limits of his supernatural physiology had never been something that occurred to him.

He stood, hesitantly rolling up the legs of his jeans and removing his shoes. Cautiously, like the water might lunge and bite him, he came up to the edge.

He paused for probably too long, and was jerked out of his silent staring by a soft, “Hey,”

Logan looked up, and Roman was smiling, one hand held out – he’d come closer, and he opened and closed his hand a few times.

“I’m right here,” he said.

Logan took the hand, stepping into the clear water and shivering just a bit from the chill.

Roman grinned, excitedly pulling him forward and lifting the net to show Logan the crawdad he’d caught, but Logan barely heard him over the sound of the babbling water and his own singing heart.

* * *

_Virgil_

Roman was dramatic and Patton was enthusiastic, so Logan really shouldn’t have been surprised that, the first time Virgil and Patton returned from fairyland and Roman caught sight of them through the trees, they ran towards each other at a dead sprint.

They were in Roman’s backyard, while the first spring leaves bloomed, and Roman had looked up and grinned so wide Logan had felt a bit like he’d been punched.

When they reached each other, Roman caught Patton in a spin, lifting him in the air, both of them laughing wildly, and then Patton had locked his arms around Roman’s neck and kissed him.

Logan _definitely_ felt like he’d been punched.

He approached as a slightly more sedate pace, and even with how long it took him to get to them they hadn’t separated, and Logan was starting to feel a little flushed around his neck.

On the other side of them was Virgil, looking just a bit awkward but also utterly adoring, and Logan was seriously concerned he was going to have a heart attack.

Virgil caught sight of him, and he turned that- that _fond_ look on Logan, and Logan felt like his heart was fairly going to leap out of his throat.

Virgil’s hand jerked, like he’d gone to do something and then changed his mind. Then he seemed to steel himself, and held it out fully, palm up, and curled his fingers just once.

Logan’s face burned, and he hesitated out of embarrassment just a little too long. Virgil blushed and went to pull his hand away but Logan lurched forward and took it, gripping him back at an angle far too awkward to be comfortable for either one of them.

Virgil smiled, his eyes a little wide with surprise, and Logan lost his head entirely.

He kissed Virgil for the third time ever, and it somehow felt just as thrilling as the first and as familiar as if he’d done it a hundred times.

Logan was looking forward to losing count.

* * *

_+1_

Logan _hated_ daisies.

But he understood, as much as he hated it – daisies were a very effective way of keeping children from being taken. So nearly every house with children in it in the whole town had their yard lined with the damn things, Shastas or Gerbers or Ox-eyes and every one of them primed to make Logan’s nose run and his eyes water and his skin crawl if he got too close.

At the peak of it, usually about a week, he didn’t even leave the house – just holed himself up in his room with the air-filter in the window, surrounded by tissues and half a dozen trash cans pulled close to his bed. He did sudoku puzzles and crosswords and solved his rubik’s cube so many times he started to see colorful squares when he closed his eyes.

Logan loved puzzles – but even he had his limits.

Someone was coming up the steps, and at this point Logan was laying face down. The door opened, and he let a groan so theatrical he wished Roman was present to compliment him on it.

“Hey, Specs – you seem happy to be alive,”

Logan sat bolt upright.

Roman was smiling in the doorway, and just behind him we’re Patton and Virgil.

Amusingly, Patton was also sniffing, a little red in the eyes, and Virgil had gone so far as to plug his nose.

“Heard you had an air filter,” said Roman, “Figured you should share,”

Logan laughed, sharp enough that it triggered a short cough into his elbow. His eyes burned and his nose tickled with the urge to sneeze, and Logan suddenly didn’t care even a little.

He reached his hands out, grabbing for them without a hint of shame, and Patton squealed with delight. He rushed forward, hopping onto the bed and burrowing into Logan’s embrace. Virgil came and laid behind Logan, and Roman squished in on the other side of Patton.

They all shuffled and squeezed until they were in a pile of limbs so knotted it was probably hazardous, and Logan sighed in contentment. Virgil sniffed a little at the back of Logan’s neck and Logan giggled.

They all three smiled, close enough that Logan could feel their faces move with it.

Roman leaned over the top of Patton’s head and kissed Logan on the forehead.

Logan sighed again, warm and content and probably wearing an expression out of a sub-par romantic comedy.

This was _far_ better than a puzzle.

**Author's Note:**

> i am also [ tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) over on tumblr!


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